


perfect time of day

by insunshine



Category: The OC, Veronica Mars (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-07
Updated: 2007-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 03:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insunshine/pseuds/insunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wallace falls for a cute girl in his physics class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She’s in his Physics Two class at 8 on T/TH mornings, and sometimes-Okay, _all_ of the time, he catches himself staring across the sea of sleepy, bleary-eyed freshman, just to catch a look at her.

 

It’s dumb, because she’s gorgeous, and it’s not like he has a confidence issue or anything, it’s _definitely_ not that, but…she’s so far away from his type that this little thing he has for her is slightly insane. He’s not sure, but he has a feeling that there are purple streaks in her hair, and that the last time he saw her, she was wearing purple leggings under her skirt.

 

He is so not the type of guy who dates girls who wear purple leggings. And it’s not like he’s being biased or anything, because not everyone can pull off purple leggings, and this girl-

 

_Excuse me?_

 

His eyes snap up, because he knows that voice, and she’s standing right in front of him, and the streaks in her hair are glinting in the glaring sunlight, and she’s smiling. At _him_. This girl, this beautiful, purple-legging wearing girl (even though, as it is, she’s wearing jeans, so he can’t actually see if she is in fact, wearing them. He wonders when he got to have such a legging fetish), is smiling at him.

 

 _Wallace, right?_

 

She’s biting on her lip now, and looking at him like she’s expecting something, and his mind is totally blank for a moment, because he knows that a response is probably necessary, but he can’t think of one. 

 

He blinks.

 

_We’re in physics together? God awfully early twice a week; first floor of the Laramie Building?_

 

 _Right._ He replies after a long moment of just staring at her, because the words just wouldn’t come, and he’s really glad Veronica isn’t here to see this, because it’s totally the opposite of his usual suave.

 

 _Oh, great! I thought I was going crazy there for a second._ She’s says, and she’s sliding next to him on the marble bench he’s been sitting on and she’s smiling and chattering away, and pulling out notebooks and folders and a Hi-Lighter. _So, were you in class on Thursday?_

 

 _Uh, yes;_ he says, and the words are so quick out of his mouth that she’s almost surprised when she looks at him. And there’s this horrible, quiet moment where he’s afraid that she’s gonna get up and walk away, because hell, he’s seen girls do crazier things, but she just smiles and ducks her head a little.

 

_So here’s my problem. I-_

 

 _I have a hard time believing you have any problems._ He says, and he smiles real bright when she laughs a little, her eyes twinkling up at him and tucking one of the longer strands of her hair behind her ear.

 

 _That’s very sweet;_ she murmurs, shifting a little and tucking one of her legs underneath the other, positioning herself in some weird sort of Indian style stance that he’s never been able to master. He wants to try to emulate her, since he’d heard Veronica say once that similar postures indicated prime mating types or something, but he’s afraid of falling on his ass like, well, an ass, so he just stays the way he is, and hopes she’ll like him because of things other than the way he sits. _I’m Anna, by the way. Anna Stern._

 

She sticks her hand out, and her bracelets jingle as they shake. Wallace can’t help smiling.

 

_Wallace Fennell._

 

 _Star point guard, right?_ She asks, and this time, she’s grinning too, he gets this weird sort of fluttery feeling in his chest.

 

 _You a basketball fan?_ He asks, brightening to her even more, if possible. She giggles again, and her cheeks are coloring a little. She looks away for a second; flipping through a notebook crammed with the neatest handwriting he’s ever seen. _You have-_

 

_Yeah, I-what?_

 

_What?_

 

She laughs again, and god, he really likes that sound.

 

_You said something, and then I said something, and I think there was a moment of miscommunication there. So…you go first._

 

_No way, ladies first. That’s how my momma taught me, and that’s how I’ll stay, thank you very much._

 

_Oh, so you’re a mama’s boy. I see how it is._

 

It’s his turn to laugh now, and he leans back, letting the sound rumble through him. He can’t remember the last time he felt this good.

 

_Hey, don’t go insulting my moms. She’s the best lady I know._

 

 _Until just now, when you met me, obviously. Right?_ she winks to let him know that she’s kidding, because she would never say something like that under normal circumstances, but his face has already darkened, and she feels her stomach tightening. _Oh my god, Wallace, I’m sorry, it was a joke I-_

 

 _Would you excuse me a sec?_ He asks, and Anna nods, sighing as she leans back against the cool marble. She watches him disappear across the grassy quad, his eyes focused on something she can’t see, and she can’t help but wondering if it was her fault.

 

**

 

He is going to kill Logan Echolls. And then he’s going to kill his girlfriend. And then maybe, if he gets around to it, he’s going to tear every fucking perfectly coifed blonde hair off of his best friend’s head. Maybe then his anger will go away, but Wallace sincerely doubts it. By the time Wallace manages to get back to his bench, Anna is, predictably gone.

 

He is seriously ready for a fight and anyone will-

 

_Wallace?_

 

_Do not even-_

 

_Wallace, I’m sorry! I didn’t-_

 

_Veronica._

 

Her eyes are wide as she takes him in, and maybe it’s because the sun is setting and it gets colder then, but she really doesn’t think that her goose bumps are due to that.

 

 _Are you ever gonna talk to me again?_ She asks after a long moment, in which Wallace has crouched down, and is shoving everything he’d had out back into his bag. It’s a miracle none of it got stolen.

 

_I’m thinking no._

 

_Wallace, come on. You can’t really be that mad!_

 

His entire body stiffens, and when he turns back to face her, his face is stony. Her shoulders slump, because she knows it’s all her fault and-

 

She shifts on the bench, because she’s sitting on something, and when she pulls it from underneath her leg she sees that it’s a note.

 

For Wallace.

 

 _Who’s Anna?_ She asks, switching tracks entirely, and biting down hard on her lip to keep from grinning when he turns around to face her.

 

_Excuse me?_

 

_Wallace, so sorry about what I said, I hope you aren’t upset. I had to run, but I slipped your key card in your cell phone and your cell phone in the bush. Maybe we can grab a cup of coffee sometime? I took the liberty of programming my number into your phone. Give me a call. Anna. Who is Anna?_

 

He tries to grab the scrap from her hands, but she won’t let him, hiding it behind her back.

 

_Did you just plant that so I would stop being pissed at you? Because Mars, that was not cool. I thought you were hurt!_

 

_Why would I plant a note for you to find? Unless-oh my god, Wallace, is this your new girlfriend?_

 

_Veronica, c’mon. I’m not talking to you about this. I’m not talking to you about-_

 

He reaches inside the bush, certain he won’t find his phone, but there it is, nestled near the bottom, and sure enough, when he flips the screen up, he can see his dorm key. He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face. 

 

_Are you gonna tell me who this Anna person is Wallace?_

 

_Are you gonna promise me that the next time I see you getting carted off by Dick Casablancas, and you’re screaming, when you see me, could you maybe stop? So I don’t have a heart attack?_

 

_I didn’t see you until we were halfway to the car!_

 

_You hate Dick, Veronica._

 

_And Dick hates me! But Logan wanted to do something romantic-_

 

 _And you think romantic is being carted away by a big dumb surfer dude, who thinks 2+2=3?_

 

She has the grace to blush and Wallace doesn’t even want to _know_ why.

 

_I’m sorry you thought there was something wrong. Can you please stop being mad so we can start geeking out to the fact that this girl-_

 

She holds up the scrap of paper, and Wallace snatches it away, reading over the words again, even though Veronica had read everything on it. He even flips it over, just to see if there’s anything else, but there isn’t. 

 

_Veronica, haven’t we talked about this? You don’t have a penis, but I do, so I don’t want to talk about-_

 

He waves his hand in front of his face angrily.

 

_Girly stuff._

 

 _Okay, Okay, fine. Am I forgiven yet?_ She asks, and she’s standing and wrapping her arm around his shoulders. _Because I don’t think I could handle it if you were mad at me, especially since there’s so much good stuff going on._

 

 _You scared me, V;_ He responds, but he’s smiling, and his arm tightens around her, and she’s silent only up until a point. Only until she’s absolutely sure he’s smiling, and then she jumps in with the questions.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s late-or early, if he really thinks about time, and the placement of hours and the sunset that happened almost 6 hours ago, but Wallace is wide awake, and he can’t speak really, because the light of the moon from the window is flitting across her hair, and he’s fairly certain he’s never seen anyone look so pretty.

 

_Truth._

 

 _God, boys are so dumb;_ she giggles as she rolls her eyes at him.

 

_I’m waiting._

 

_Okay, fine. What is my secret identity?_

 

_Let me guess, you are not really a college student, but a reporter in disguise, trying to catch me smoking or shooting something so you can write about it and get famous?_

 

He falls back on the bed, pillowing his arms behind his head and smiling at her, because she’s smiling, and he was just kidding. And she knows it.

 

_Yes, that’s it exactly! How did you know?_

 

_It’s all in the style, baby. You are way too well dressed to be in college._

 

She laughs and she settles down next to him, her hair almost, almost, almost brushing against his chest, but not. They’ve been hanging out pretty regularly for the past week, but they haven’t gotten to the touching each other step yet.

 

_And what, Mr. Fennel do you know about women’s fashion?_

 

She closes her eyes for a second right after the words come out of her mouth, and he’s kind of too far away to tell, but it looks like she’s blushing. He smiles because she’s adorable.

 

_And if you tell me it’s because you’re so used to taking the fashion off the women, I may be forced to kill you._

 

_Oh really?_

 

_Yes. And I would hate to get blood all over my nice new clothes!_

 

 _I won’t tell you then;_ he says, and she’s still laughing, and she’s sitting up, and leaning closer, and even though he knows that she’s not the kind of girl who wears perfume (as she told him on their first failed attempt at a date), the smell of her, her shampoo, maybe, is amazing, and smells like honeysuckle and roses, and something completely different entirely.

 

 _You think you’re so funny;_ she whispers, and her eyes are clear as they stare into his, and she’s really close and getting closer, so he closes his eyes, because this is the good part, and he slips his hands across the silky smooth skin of her arms, and she’s so close he can almost _feel_ her and-

 

_Wallace, man, I know you told me to stay away from her, but I just don’t think-Oh! Oh my god._

 

He’s never really been a scrambler. Sure, he’s fast on the court, but Wallace has never really felt the urge to move too fast if there’s no place to go, but now, with Piz standing in the doorway blushing, and with Anna looking so good he could almost-, he scrambles, jamming his pillow over his lap, and his hand on the mattress beside her.

 

_I am, so, so sorry._

 

_Hey, it’s Okay, don’t worry about it._

 

_No, I-I can’t believe I didn’t knock. I’m usually so good about these things._

 

 _He’s never dealt with one of these things;_ He says, leaning across the space between them and whispering it against her shoulder. She smiles, ducking her head a little.

 

_So I’m the first girl you’ve brought back home?_

 

_So far._

 

She laughs a little-god she has a great laugh, and she throws her head back and lets it go through her, and Piz is still standing in the doorway, his hands awkwardly jammed into his pants pockets, staring at the ground.

 

 _I’m Anna, by the way;_ she murmurs, leaning forward a little, and offering to shake.

 

 _Piz. God, where are my manners? I’m Piz. Hi! It’s very, very nice to meet you!_ He’s pumping her hand enthusiastically, and she has to bite her lip to keep from laughing outright again. She grins at Wallace over her shoulder.

 

_You too._

 

_So I think I’m gonna-_

 

_So I’m just going to-_

 

_Oh no! Don’t go because of me. You and Wallace were in the…middle of something. I can always come back. It’s no problem._

 

_Hey, don’t be silly. You needed to talk to him, and who am I to kick you out of your own room?_

 

_No, please stay, I’ll go!_

 

Piz is fighting a losing battle and all three of them know it. Wallace isn’t sure what he wants to do first, kick the crap out of his roommate or chase after the pretty girl who is, at the moment, wrapping a sparkly pink scarf around her neck.

 

_You do realize we live in southern California, right?_

 

 _What’s your point?_ She asks, and there’s this mischievous little glint in her eye as she winds it tighter, shrugging on her jacket too, never taking her eyes off him. _I’m from Pittsburg. We freeze easy._

 

 _Stay here long enough;_ he gestures towards himself and the bed, a slow grin spreading across his face. She starts giggling too, her smile a mile wide, her eyes dancing. _And you’ll forget all that._

 

_Will I? Really?_

 

_I can guarantee it._

 

_Oh, Mr. Fennel, are you sure about that? Cuz I’m going to hold you to it._

 

She leans forward, and it’s barely anything, it’s barely an inch, and it’s not like he wasn’t already playing with frayed edges of her scarf anyway, and her lips brush his, once, twice, nice and easy, and it’s not what he wanted their first kiss to be like, with Piz standing there and trying to look everywhere but at them, but really staring, but it’s nice. She tastes like honey.

 

 _Call me tomorrow?_ She says when she’s far enough away so that she can look at him over her shoulder.

 

_You know I will._

 

_Goodnight, Piz. It was really nice meeting you._

 

His eyes are still closed, and he moves his hand down a fraction of an inch so that he can look at her while he’s nodding. 

 

_You too! Take care!_

 

Piz breathes a sigh of relief as she leaves, closing the door softly when he sees that’s she’s gotten on the elevator already.

 

 _So who was that?_ He asks conversationally, and his legs are as crossed as his arms, and he doesn’t even get the significance of the dark look Wallace throws him, because the boy doesn’t know Veronica half as well as he thinks he does.

 

 _What did Veronica say this time?_ He asks, because this is familiar territory.

 

**

 

_You have got to be kidding me._

 

_I would not joke about not getting laid._

 

_You really thought the two of you were going to seal the deal? After what, a week?_

 

_Veronica._

 

_What, what? I’m sorry! Fennel, you are sex. You ooze it. It’s dripping from…your um, I’m going to stop now._

 

_While your ahead, that’s good._

 

_I thought so. So he actually burst in? While you guys were-_

 

_It was the most sexually charged nose graze ever._

 

She is quiet for a moment, but he’s been reading her brain for three years, he knows how it works.

 

_And you haven’t called her._

 

_Veronica, it’s 9 in the morning. When was I gonna call her? I just got out of class to a voicemail from you._

 

_Remind me again why you took so many early morning classes?_

 

_Because you told me to?_

 

_And since when do you listen to me?_

 

_Since you said, ‘Hey Wallace! I constructed this whole schedule over the summer where we could have lunch together and some classes and it wouldn’t be like the past two semesters where we rarely saw each other at all and our relationship almost fell apart.’_

 

_Our relationship did not-_

 

_Veronica._

 

_So…what are you going to say?_

 

_When?_

 

_When you call her!_

 

_I don’t know…I mean, she handled meeting Piz really well-_

 

_That is a great feat my friend, especially since he isn’t people trained yet._

 

_This is true._

 

_I think you should just tell her straight up, girl, I really dig you. Let’s screw._

 

_You are so not funny. Anyway I gotta jet._

 

_Call me when you have details?_

 

_I’ll talk to you later._

 

_Details!_

 

As he hangs up, he can still hear her voice.

 

 _I’m really not stalking you, I swear;_ a voice says from behind him, and he can feel a flush coming up on his cheeks, because there she is, and he’s fairly certain she heard every word he just said.

 

Wonderful.

 

 _You know, I really wouldn’t mind if you were;_ he says, as he gets closer. She’s sitting on (what he’s now termed inside his brain, as) their bench, her legs wrapped underneath her in another one of those sitting positions that he’s never ever been able to get a handle on.

 

She’s smiling up at him, and the wind is blowing softly, and ruffling her hair, and he can’t help it, he reaches out a little, and bends down, and kisses her.

 

It’s a real kiss this time, not just a little brush, and everything, all of the sounds, all of the people, every single thought he’d had in his head about what to say and what to do and how to act…they’re all gone, replaced with this overwhelming urge to just never stop doing this.

 

 _Well, hello to you too;_ she whispers, and then she leans up and kisses him back.


End file.
